Whispers
by tsunachi
Summary: It's my fault, she tells herself, over and over again. Over time, she pounds it into her brain, until nothing more can be said every time her partner is injured. She presses these thoughts into her heart, holding it and never letting it go. But her fears, her guilt, her sadness- can they be contained forever? It can, but it hurts so much not to cry. SoulxMaka Oneshots
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Too many chapters means update very little. Oneshot it is, then. I think I'll give up the other ones. LAZY ME. Do not own Soul Eater, except for the plot line. Don't forget to watch me on deviantART under the same name. If you search up da-narwhal, it'll lead you to me. Hopefully. WATCH MEEEE!

**Pairing**: SoMa  
**Perspective**: Second Person  
**Angst/Fluff level**: You tell me. There will be no heavy kissing, because I think that sometimes ruins the whole darn story.

** Goal**: for reader to feel sad. Very sad.

**Rating**: K+, or maybe T.

**Setting**: Nighttime. Yes, this is one of those Maka-had-a-dream stories, but really, those are the best ones.

**Warning**: May contain spoilers, if you haven't watched up to a certain episode yet. Also, over-use of lines. Haters gotta hate. So NO HATERS PLEEAASEEE.

**Summary**: Everything is always her fault, and it always will be, despite what anyone tells her, despite what Soul tells her. She knows that emotions can kill a person from the inside out, yet she locks them in her heart, away from anyone it can harm.

**One more note: **The poem doesn't play a large part in the story. I just put it there because it was so gorgeous (sarcasm, sarcasm). The italics are either Maka's thoughts, one of her dreams, or her memories. I'm sure you can tell. I tried to make it pretty obvious, and I added lines. THEY'RE SO HIDEOUSSSS. The bold is Soul's voice as a weapon. Excuse the spelling/ grammar mistakes. I typed most of this up on my phone, and the keyboard is hard to control, what with all the autocorrect and such.

* * *

_Blood splattered across the ground_

_Ten thousand words without sound._

_Red against green; opposites_

_One scared out of their wits._

_Follow the road that leads astray_

_Give me your soul to take away._

* * *

_**~Memories~**_

"Shut up! _Shut up!"_ Once again, she awakes from the nightmare with a bloodcurdling scream, her skin gleaming with a soft sheen of sweat and mingled tears. Her limbs are entangled within the sheets, and Maka struggled to untangle them, hurriedly wiping the corner of her eyes. Her throat feels dryer than sandpaper.

_I hope I don't wake up Soul_, she muses. He's a deep enough sleeper anyways. It's the weekend, and he deserves to sleep in. Gingerly, she touches the sore side of her neck.

"_You're ugly and useless and you hurt everyone around you_," the voice hisses in her head, weaving around her mind like a winding snake. Maka can almost hear a tiny little smile growing on its evil nonexistant face as it whispers depressing messages into her head. "_Especially Soul, your own partner, your weapon, the one you-_"

* * *

_Crona was rushing at them- twenty feet, ten feet, five feet- what could she do, the doors were locked-_

_-and every time she swung her weapon at that genderless, crazed being, Soul was hurt- _

_-she couldn't hurt him, she'd hurt him enough- _

_**-Maka, hurry up and block!**__- _

_-no, Soul, I can't-_

_-and then the whirring sound of Ragnarock slicing the air-_

_-suddenly Soul stood in front of her, arms outstretched to protect his beloved meister- and he fell into her arms, his blood splaying the air with droplets of red liquid- **Maka!**-_

_-I can't do anything, Soul, I'm so sorry…_

_I'm a horrible meister. _

* * *

"Shut up," she snarls back. To a clueless watcher, she appears to be conversing with herself in her room, quite rudely, in fact; seeing visions and all that crazy stuff.

But only Maka can hear the voice that is her own conscience, constantly replaying her worst moments, reminding her of how horrible a person she truly is.

It's been haunting her ever since the "Incident", where Soul got his scar and Maka discovered the essence of Black Blood. Maybe some of the madness got into her system, too, and maybe she's being affected by it.

Sometimes, it feels as if she is taunting herself, using the tactic of harsh blows by words to weaken her self-confidence. She blames herself more than anything, for all the pain that she's caused.

_Am I a failure?_

Throwing a robe over her skinny shoulders, she stands up and contemplates what she's about to do.

_I'm going to get rid of myself, my feelings, and my guilt._

Sometimes, the pain boils up inside of her, so intense that Maka can barely stand still. She feels like a volcano, ready to erupt in anger at any second, or any word that annoys her without meaning to. Her stomach seems to roll inside her; her throat tight and constricted.

And when her feelings burst out of her, instead of crying, she grabs the nearest book and slams it into the head of the nearest possible person without being rude. In that case, most of the time, Soul is by her side, and is often the victim of her infamous Maka-chops.

He complains about her, so she sinks even lower into the pits of depression.

_What am I worth?_

* * *

_His crimson eyes mix with her deep green ones, their agony lost in the whirl of pain and confusion. Maka shifts slightly, blinking, and holds her scythe-blade out in front of her. She doesn't need any weapon; she is her own. _

_Her used-to-be-partner staggers, grasping his side in which a deep cut can clearly be seen, and lets out a groan, falling to the ground, again._

_ Mercilessly, Maka steps forward and slices his head off. _

_He's too good for her. All she can do is hurt her friends; that's her purpose, isn't it?_

* * *

She slips her cold feet into tiny slippers that had been given to her as a gift at Christmas by the one and only Soul, currently sleeping only a few walls away. She quickly shifts like a shadow out of her room without a sound, stealthy as a cat. A floor-board shudders underneath her, only resting when she moved her foot away. Tip-toeing gently down the hall, she presses her ear by the wooden door leading to his room.

_Be quiet, Maka. You don't want to wake him up._

A few quiet snores and the sound of his heavy breathing assure her that he is deep asleep. Wiping the last few tears out of her eyes, she sighs with relief. _At least he's actually alive. Just a dream, Maka. Just a dream. You didn't actually kill him._

_You didn't slice his head off and hang it on the chalkboard of Stein's classroom, either._

_Just a nightmare._

_It was only a nightmare._

* * *

_A purposeful push shoved her halfway across the hall and into a locker. "Sorry, Ma-ka," snickered a blonde, flipping her silky hair over her shoulder. "Didn't see you there." She tosses a grim look at the posse of girls around her, every inch of their porcelain faces covered with obvious make-up. "Well, girls, it's not like anyone ever sees her, right? It's a miracle she doesn't get run in to so often."_

_"Soul can see me..." Maka answered back blankly, trailing off at the looks on their faces._

_The blonde turned to her with a snarl. "Soul? What are you doing with Soul? He doesn't belong to you, and he'll never recognize you. He deserves a meister who can be so much more, like me. You can barely spin a broom, let alone a scythe. Without his help, you are nothing."_

_"But-" she began, half-confident that she can reply to these girls in a more likable fashion. Before she could utter a single word more, a tan-skinned brunette stepped up, breaking in. The girl raised a finger, smiling._

_"Look at you," the brunette cooed. "Aren't you adorable. Thinking you can stand up to us. But Maka, honestly. Why do you even keep on trying? Everyone one knows you're absolutely hideous, and a disgrace to the DWMA. What Elaine says is right. Without Soul, you can do nothing." She leans in close enough that Maka can smell the lip-stick. "You," she says, poking Maka in the collarbone, "are ugly. Ugly, ugly, ugly. Pigtails? Ugh. So childish. Flat-chested, too. __No wonder Soul almost gave you up for that cat-woman you still have living with you. You study too much, too. Who the heck spends half their life with their nose in a thick dictionary? Normal people don't, and you certainly don't fit in with anyone._

_ Oh, and remember that time? You lost a whole year's worth of kishin eggs, just because you messed up, Maka. __Ninety-nine souls. It was so close, wasn't it? But then the lady turned out to be a cat. Now you have to start over. That scar he has? Your fault. The reason his head hurts so often? You and your stupid Maka-chops. Everything, everything, is your fault." With that, she gave a sneaky smile of triumph, then turned her heel and marched away, radiating calm. The gang of girl dolls followed her obediently, leaving Maka standing there in the hallway._

_When Soul passed by on his way to Stein's classroom, he stopped at her expression. "Maka, what's wrong?"_

_"Nothing. We're going to be late for class, now let's get going." She turned away and smiled at him._

* * *

She is such an adept liar, she amazes herself, even. Feelings are practically a foreign meaning to her. But even she is considered human.

Slowly, Maka pushes open to door, wincing awkwardly at the _creeeeak_ it gives off. She can almost feel his breathing quicken, being perceptive and all, but perhaps that's just her superstition.

He seems so far off, so peaceful, lying there in the bed, clothed only in his shorts, as usual. Sometimes, he does wear a long-sleeved shirt with the grim reaper emblem shown, but tonight is a relatively warm night, so it's un-needed. Even worse: the scars are evident and ever so obvious.

She quietly strides over to him, carefully taking a seat next to him on his bed. What is she doing there, anyways, invading his privacy? Maybe his room just felt so _safe_…

... and _painful_...

_Why am I here? _

Maka curls her fingers over her weapon's, missing the strong, rough grip that held her hand when he was going to transform into a scythe. Her own hand has multiple calluses from swinging around a scythe all day.

"I'm an idiot," she mutters. "I can't do anything right."

Beside her, Soul breathes in, evenly. She looks at him, with his messy white hair sprayed across his forehead. Her heart pounds deep inside of her, and a ragged gasp escapes from her throat.

_Really, Maka? Why are you here? Tell me the truth. Tell the truth to yourself, or you can lie like usual, like you do every day, to everyone, even yourself. _

_Are you hurt? No, I'm fine. _

_Would you rather read a book, or hang out with your friends and pretend nothing's wrong? For Soul and Tsubaki's sakes, I will. Don't want to worry them._

_The lies are everywhere, aren't they, Maka. _

She sighs a little, propping her thin arm on his blue-striped pillow.

_I wish I could sleep like he does. All calm. Perfect. No nightmares. Except about the madness._

_No memories._

_At least, stupid memories like mine._

_"Oi, Tiny-tits, don't hit me so hard…"_

_"Who the heck spends half their life with their nose buried in a thick dictionary?"_

_"Seriously, have you heard of that Albarn girl?" "Yeah, I have. They told me she's no more than nerd, but she's Soul's partner." "How do you think she even charmed her way to him?" "Maybe she's a witch, and she gave him a love potion."_

_"Ew, it's her again."_

* * *

_Her thoughts blur together, and she collapses with him too, her back thudding against the door behind them. What could she do, but wait for Crona to kill them both? She's useless. Utterly useless. Without her weapon, she can do nothing- nothing but wait for an impending death. But she can't cry, she can't; crying is for babies. Maka can do nothing to stop it, and a tear slides down her cheek as the child in the black dress stumbles closer, drunkenly waving the sword around in play._

_"Give me your soul… Stop the sound! Stop screaming at me, Ragnarok, stop it stop it stop it!"**  
**_

_Above the child, floating on an old-fashioned broom-stick, the snake witch chuckles evilly, covering her mouth with a dainty hand. _

_"Blood splattered across the ground,_

_ten thousand words without sound…__Red and green; opposites,_

_one scared out of their wits,_

_follow the road that leads astray…_

_give me your soul... Maka Albarn... to take away."_

* * *

And then, suddenly, she's crying again, like a weakling who can't do _anything_. Her eyes water up without her consent, and she leans her forehead against Soul's, her messy ash-blonde hair falling onto his utterly perfect face, not caring if he woke up, not caring if he hated her…

Soul is utterly perfect in every way, and she's just another girl who happened to be his partner.

_Crying is stupid. It shows how weak you are, how fragile, how easy to break. I'm all of the above. _

_Who likes girls that cry? No one. No wonder no one likes you, Maka._

_What's there to care about anymore? _

_I'm supposed to be strong, but I can't, because… I'm such a horrible meister. I can't do anything right. Maybe I should stop. Stop being Maka. _

_I'll slink into the background, and no one will ever know me again._

_The stress is killing me. I feel as if I'll be crushed any moment._

_It's better if you didn't meet me, eh, Soul._

"I'm sorry," she whispers huskily, her breath warming his nose. "I'm sorry for hurting you.

I'm sorry about Crona,

I'm sorry about the stupid scar,

I'm sorry that I'm such a sucky meister,

I'm sorry that you met me,

I'm sorry that I'm so useless,

and that I can't do anything but _cry!_"

Maka sniffs and lifts her head off of his, blinking away tears. _Go away. Leave me alone._

He still hasn't woken up, which is a miracle by itself. Her chest clenches in pain, and she bites her lip. She can see the beginnings of the scar on his left shoulder.

_My heart... why does it hurt so much? It's like someone is squeezing it to bits; it's throbbing harder than when Crona almost killed him...__  
_

"Since I can't say this when you're awake, Soul, because I'm so weak, I'll say it to you now, while you're asleep. Soul, I'm really sorry. You should go find another partner, a better one. You deserve much better. Meeting me was a mistake on my part. I barged in while you were playing piano. You'll probably be mad when you wake up, and Soul," she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes to hold back more tears, "I love you, I really do. But I can't do anything. You'll be safer off without me, like those girls said. I…"

_"Without his help, you are nothing."_

"Thank you for helping me all this way. I'm a real crybaby, and it's hard to put up with me, but you still stayed with me. I really am a burden. And if you still aren't awake, I know you like to sleep really late," Maka manages to give a trembling smile to his unseeing pale eyelids, "I'll tell you tomorrow, that I'm not fit to be your partner. I'll be strong for once and speak up."

_Good job, Maka, you've finally done something useful._ She can hear the girls laughing at her, mocking her. _Wow, I didn't know she could actually do something!_

"I'm sorry to bother you with my life." Her voice wobbles unsteadily, shaking more than Maka's voice ever had. "I… just…I'll stop. I'm nobody, just a weak meister like any other out there, and you're Soul Evans.

You chose me as a partner but… did you ever see something in me? Or was it just because you were desperate?"

She gulps, swallowing down everything choking her: her fears, the lies, the sadness, the guilt. "Probably the latter, huh. Since you're Soul. There's nothing in me to see, but a stupid girl who can't even control her tears. I have so many questions to ask, but I can't. Not to you. I… I'll just leave. You need your sleep without me barging in and being a brat."

She stands up to leave, squeezing his hand one last time, unclasping her hand from his, and takes a step away.

If anyone could describe her heart right there and then, it would be as if her whole heart shattered into a million glassy pieces, and someone laid them all over the floor and _stomped_ on them.

Her heart broke, and she was crushed.

At least she told him the truth.

* * *

"Hey, Maka."

Maka lets out a little gasp and whips around, her mouth open, as Soul blinks back her from his pillow, his signature smirk on his face.

"D-did.. you...?" she sputters.

His smile grows wider as he grabs her wrist and gently pulls her down to kneel next to his bedside. The moonlight casts dark shadows across his face, giving an image of a demon, especially with his white, sharp teeth.

"I was awake the whole time, Maka. Your screams woke me up, anyways." Her answers her unspoken question.

She bows her head, ashamed. "I'm sorry, Soul..."

"Tsk, tsk. Stop saying that. It's getting annoying." His grin softens slightly, and she immediately relaxes back onto her knees, rocking back and forth."Really, Maka, I didn't know you were so harsh on yourself. Saying you can't do anything right. You're not a bad meister at all. I don't care what these 'other girls' said, but they're lying to your face. You're the coolest meister I'll every have."

Maka's bottom lip trembles dangerously; her eyes seeming to be on the verge of tears again. Holding fast, she grits her teeth.

"No, Soul. You stop lying to me. Tell me the truth. Tell me I'm ugly. Tell me how much I'm worse than everyone else. Tell me how you really feel about me, and _stop feeding me these lies._"

She shakes her head, burying her face into her hands; they tighten into fists, digging her nails so hard into her skin that it bleeds. Blood is all that really counts to her, isn't it? The blood of her partner, the blood of her best friends, the blood of her own flesh, the blood of the enemy. Both negative and positive.

"Soul. You're my partner, at least for now. I'm begging you to tell me the _truth_, so at least I know how low I am. I've caused you nothing but pain, from our start to the end, and I'll continue to give you nothing more, because I _can't_ do _anything_ but _hurt_ everyone around me.

Don't even try to sugar it over and give me the positives. I.. will never be anything better. I'm a monster. An ugly one."

She hears his sharp intake of breath but does not glance at him. Such a commoner like her does not have the honor to glance at the royalty she had so easily thrown in danger's way, and spilled the blood of.

Soul slides out smoothly from under his covers, using his elbows to push himself up to sit straight on his bed.

"Maka."

"Yes?" she asks, ignoring the fact that the scar- _that she had inflicted-_ was clear and entirely visible on his skin. Her vision is all blurry, but she can still tell its there. "Did I ever tell you that I hate lies? Papa's told me hundreds of them, too, about how much he loves me, and how much he loves my mom. You know, Soul, I have Soul Perception. Even without that, I could see it in his eyes; he was lying, lying, always lying. You sometimes do that, too."

"Shut up," he growls back, once again grabbing her wrist and wrenching her upwards, a bit violently, to seat her next to him. "Stop thinking like that. Come here."

Soul wraps his arms around her fragile body, and in surrender she buries her face into his shoulder, her arms encircled around his neck.

"You don't deserve to think that way," he says calmly. "Maka... honestly, you're too stubborn. You blame everything on yourself. You have to let go of yourself sometimes. Think about it; you're a smart girl. It's not always your fault. There are other variables stuck in there too, in the equation of life, right? You were the one who told me that, remember?"

He threads his fingers through her ash-blonde hair, leaning against her wiry frame. "I chose you as my partner because I knew you were the right one. I couldn't ask for a better meister than you, and I swear on my life that I will protect you. That's the job of a weapon."

"But...the scar..." Absentmindedly, her hand traces the imprint on his flawless skin. "I... caused that too. Because I was being careless, and we walked into that church without really inspecting it."

"Geez, Maka," scorns Soul, leaning back. "Mistakes happen, and they have outcomes. But you learn from those mistakes. Oh, the day that I'm giving Maka a lecture on mistakes has finally come." He grins sullenly, tapping her cheek. "Come on. Cheer up. You don't look very nice with that pouty face on."

She glances away. "I never look nice, you dimwit. Aliens like me who read books all day never look nice. No matter what you say, you can't change me to become some pretty princess."

He scoffs. "You've been asked out plenty of times."

"Yeah, but _all_ they ever want to see is my _father_, the lying _Death Scythe_. I don't matter to any of them."

His tone softens a bit. "You matter to me."

"Yeah, but you're my partner, and I'm not good enough for you. So in a few days, I'll be gone, and you'll find someone else to matter abou-"

"Learn to be quiet," he interrupts abruptly. "I'm trying to make a point here."

She blinks at him. "What?"

He presses his lips against hers, pulling her in closer. "You're my meister, and it's my job to protect you. If those girls ever come bother you again, I'll personally tell them off. Because, Maka, you_ are _the best meister a weapon ever could have. I love you, Maka, and I don't feel very cool right now, but that's what I really feel. And you're probably the cutest girl in the world. Swear on behalf of my scythe."

Soul grins, licking his lips.

"S..sou...soul?" she mutters, ducking her head again, her eyes burning up. "You really are good at lying."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm proud. I'm very proud of this piece. *shakes head* Nothing better than a good dose of SoulxMaka to get you all depressed and fangirl-y.

NOW OFF TO SLEEP

OR WRITE MY STUPID ESSAYS.

:D

D:

Please review! I WANT SOME OUTSIDE LOOK ON THIS.


	2. Chapter 2

**Attaboy. I'm back, children. Did you enjoy my loooooooooonnng break from writing? Yeah, typed this up on my mom's phone. ; u ; ENJOY ME GUSTA**

**Oh oh. And. Homework comes first. Did you know that? Alrighties, bye. Thanks to all your reviews! Here's something more cheerful to lighten up your spirits. :)**

Hey, I DON'T OWN Soul Eater. -_- Got it?

* * *

They told him that they'd put her in the spangliest outfit they could find. Then they dragged Maka off to Death City Mall to buy her a so-called spangly swimsuit. A trip to the beach should be normal, but the residents and students of Shibusen thought otherwise, being located so far off from the ocean, so it was a large occasion that Lord Death giddily organized and packed the members of Spartoi gang in "just for fun.

"Frankly, Soul thinks they're making an altogether too-large clamour for just a tiny vacation. True, weapons and their meisters barely had any time for sitting in the sand and making baby sandcastles with the fate of death. But was it that drastic that they had to go drag that unwilling partner of his to go buy a million-dollar-nosebleed outfit?

With her rack, a nosebleed is near impossible, he muses. Maka is no Californian beach girl. He can picture her more in a punk outfit with black daggers than a green striped bikini. Please. Soul has been her weapon long enough to know her likes and dislikes well. How else could he push her buttons so easily?

And so they are the beach, white particles of sand sifting straight through their toes like a liquid. Patty prances around in a pink lacy one-piece like a madwoman with a smile on her pale face, throwing grits into everyone's eyes; Liz follows her in a vivid blue bikini, complaining sourly about the heat, but rather cheerful otherwise. Kidd watches them from a distance, seated below a symmetrical umbrella stuck in as vertically as possible, bangs pulled back with a clip probably borrowed from one of the sisters.

The last descendant of the Star Clan issues a loud yell, scaring half the seagulls away and causing at least twenty people to look up and give a totally confused expression of distaste. That was to be expected, of course. Tsubaki follows Black Star as he bellows his name all around and leaps into the ocean with a mighty splash, and Soul can't help but admire how stunning she looks, next to her lower-than-dirt-but-still-godly meister. But he doesn't really care about that.

So where is his meister? Is she still holed up in the bathroom?

Liz stops at where he is seated depressingly next to Kidd and bends under the shade. "If Maka doesn't come out in five minutes, I'll make Patty get her."  
"Thanks, don't want her to drown in toilet water," he replies smartly, smirking. "Why's she still in there? Got something to hide?"

Liz sighs, combing her hand through her stringy blonde hair. "Oh, um, her swimsuit is pretty cute."

"That's all," he says, not even bothering to put a question mark at the end of it.

"No!" squeals Patty, skidding to a complwtely halt in front of him to join her sister. "Maka-chan looks adorable! Don't tell her we told you this, but she's trying to impress you!" She beams, lighting up the shade with her immaculately innocent smile, and runs off to splash Black Star.

Kidd rubs his nose diligently. "Worry not, Soul. Girls will be girls, and Patty will be Patty."

"I'll just leave you two freaks under the awesome shade," exclaims Liz, already heading off into the deep blue sea. "Toodledoo, hasta la vista, beeches!"  
With that, she's gone, and Soul is left with a lonesome umbrella, a missing meister, a strangely symmetrical sandcastle from Mars, and the son of Death.

"So. Hooooot." Kidd fans himself with his hand, flopping onto the towel. "How. Can. They. Deal with. The HEAT!"

"Mmkay, I'm gonna go get Maka out of her emo corner now. Have fun being barbecued." Soul stands up and staggers a few steps forward, only to be blasted with intense heatwaves not unlike those made of water that his tan, muscular, Star-clan friend were currently being smashed by.

Come on, you weakling. Tans are good. Tans are cool. If you run, you won't get a sunburn.

He runs. Possibly faster than Speed Star. The sand burns like a gigantic lava pit beneath his feet.

Soul rests under the shade of the brick roof before pounding on the door of the women's restroom. "Oh Makaaa... Oi, you in there?" He can totally imagine an elderly woman strolling out with a cane and whacking him across the face. Dang, that would sting for days. Not cool.

"I don't wanna come out."

"Why not? I'm getting tired of waiting. You barely ever take this long to change."

"I look weird."

"You look fine," he huffs.

"How would you know?"

"Listen, I'll take your favorite book series and have them roasted over the sand if you don't come out. Literally. What were they called again? Maximum Ride? Harry Potter? TWILI-"

The door bangs open and nearly hits him in the face. Maka storms out, arms crossed over her chest and a frustrated grimace painted over her face. Soul's smirks widens considerably. "Atta girl. Now that's better."

"Hmph."

"Now unfold your arms and stop looking so mad. You never see any grumpy hot girls at the beach, eh?"

She reaches for a trusty book to smash over his head only to find that there is none. "Shut up!"

Soul leans against the wall. He's afraid that if he smiles any more his mouth will burst. Oh, but this is too much fun! "A little bird also tweeted me a message about how you wanted to impress me-"

Maka lunges for him. If she doesn't have a book, she can always use her hand. "COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE TWERP."

She chases him up and down the beach, managing to momentarily blind Kidd's vision with the sand kicked up. Eventually they stop to rest, both panting from exertion, Soul more so, not being an athletic type. Sure, he's a weapon, but Maka does the jumping around more.

"Hey," he calls.

She straightens up, looking half-pissed. "What?"

"You look nice. In that swimsuit."

She blinks at him for a while, shock momentarily fogging her brain. "Huh?"

"I'm not gonna repeat myself, Tiny Tits. You heard me."

His partner immediately turns several shades of colors- green, red, blue, tan, red-

Yup, it always ends in red.

"Really?" she whispers. He can barely hear her over the roar of the waves (preferably pounding Black Star's head in) but he smiles anyway- a genuine smile, not a smirk; a smile he very rarely gives out, and only to his meister.

"Yes, really."

He grabs her hand and drags her into the waves with him.

After all, it's the little cute things about her that he likes the most.


End file.
